It's November 2019. I've had my PhD for five
years. That's 6 whole months longer than it took me to get the PhD.
The above is
a super nerd level reference that maybe three people will get...but it pleases
me (stay tuned to the end for more).
For everyone else, yes, it's five years since I
was able to put 'Dr' in front of my name (or more accurately correct people
when they said 'Miss'). I usually count from the day the corrections actually
got signed off (a torturous 7 months later) but what the hell if nauseating
couples can have many anniversaries, so can me and my PhD.
If anyone had
told me at the moment 5 years ago, that the following 5 years would be harder
than the PhD years, I wouldn't have believed them. My PhD years well hellish.
Especially the last, but the ones that followed were worse in many ways. Partly
because at least with the Ph.D. there's an endpoint either way- you'll either
finish or fail. But it has to end sometime. After it can feel like being stuck
in a never-ending limbo of...well failure frankly. And also of never
knowing ‘what next’.
And what jobs wise has the five years post-PhD
given me?
Nine jobs in five years. That’s right nine. Some
of them overlapped because guess what full-time work is hard to come by. Some
of them were very short term by nature (or because I got fired. Give you three guesses
which one that was). I share this list bellow because I want all the ‘normal’
people in my life to know what it’s like, all those people who judge to know
what this snapshot of life was like. But also for the (slightly entitled) current
PhDs who think they’re going to walk into an academic job/alternative career. So,
this is what five years Post Ph.D. looked like for me:
1. Support Worker (in a University, I actually
took notes for students in lectures I'd written, and on modules, I'd designed
that someone else was now taking credit for). Paid minimum wage.
2. Research
Development Advisor. It should have been a great alt-ac job. Actually paid an
academic level salary. They ended the job after 12 months and I spent half a
holiday crying about going back to work.
3.
Development Admin for a funding body. Nice admin type job, nice people. Got
booted out in a restructure. Paid decent admin wages (around 20k)
4. Christmas
Retail Temp. Pros: it was in a bookshop. Cons: Christmas retail. Paid minimum
wage.
5. Murder
Admin. Let's tell that story again. I don't think they ever actually paid
me.
6. Private
Hospital Receptionist. Got wee thrown at me and had to call men 'Doctor' when
they couldn't be bothered to remember my name. Paid minimum wage.
7. Transcriber. On a super fun Hip Hop project.
8. Gallery
Manager/Marketing Manager. Lovely job, lovely people. Not enough hours to live
on sadly. Paid minimum wage.
9. Marketing
Officer in the Heritage sector. Lovely people lovely job. Pays low-end arts
admin wages. Part-time.
And what did
those 9 jobs in five years do to me? they nearly broke me that's what.
Somewhere between Murder Admin and Private Hospital, I remember sitting on my living
room floor sobbing. There were times where I'd say, 'I can't carry on' or 'I
don't want to be here' and mean it.
The Ph.D. destroyed my confidence. It destroyed my
faith in my ability to be what I wanted to be. But the post Ph.D. years took that
and ran it into the ground. Take the frustration of not being able to get a job
(any job) with not being able to do what you wanted to in life. Add a
sprinkling of society’s judgment. Throw in the uncertainty of never having a
job for more than a year. Then for added fun mix in people snottily saying ‘Well
WHY are you doing this job then?’ with the undercurrent being ‘You must be a
bit shit’.
It broke me all of it. And all the while I was clawing
my way, chipping away at trying to do all the things that ‘should’ get me where
I wanted to be. Translation: working every hour I wasn’t earning a living, for
free, trying to get somewhere. Also largely failing it felt like.
Nowhere would give me the time of day because I
was an ‘academic’ which obviously is laughable as academia wouldn’t give me
time of day for …well not.
But I did keep going. I partly out of spite at
being told that I ‘write like a journalist’ by an academic (ok Evil Ph.D. Supervisor)
and so I gave it a stab. I’m nowhere making a living doing that, but I’ve
written for some pretty cool places (for the record, my American Theatre
articles are the ones I’m proudest of). I kept plugging away as a critic and
while I’ll never be one of the London Cool Kids I think I’ve proven myself as a
good writer about theatre.
I started writing plays seriously when I finished
my Ph.D. five years ago. After again being told I wasn’t good enough by the ‘Creative
Writing’ lot at my University…I did it anyway. And however ill-advised, I’m
chipping away at it. Despite being told by a Leading Playwright I’d ‘never make
a living from it’ (never intended to mate), I managed to get a proper
production of a proper play on. As well as lots of other bits and pieces
bubbling away. And I guess I can call myself a playwright now too? The Magic of
the theatre or something I guess…
‘Can I show you what I’m proudest of’ (ever the
musical theatre bitch) …it’s my Angels in America work. Writing a programme for
the National Theatre, teaching there. After it had been my dream for as long as
I’d been both dreaming about theatre, and for the entire PhD. To go full circle
with the research and take it back. That made that worth it. And proved to me I
did know what I was doing, and that the work was worthwhile. It’s also the
thing that made me not give up, a year into these five years. I could have taken
the hint to ‘stop moving’ but instead, I turned around and said ‘I want more
life I do’ I say ‘I haven’t done anything yet’ (and yes this whole blog is Prior
Walter inspired in case you hadn’t guessed yet).
And I’ve got things to do. I still need to finish
the book. I’ve got at least two more book ideas that I feel I ‘have’ to write
too. Will I fail at those? Quite possibly. Right now, finishing the book, not
having it rejected by peer review seems an impossible task. But I know I have
to keep trying. People will say five years out of the PhD is too late. To them
I say, five years on I’m not bound by your academic ‘rules’ anymore, and you
know what…a book is still a book. It’s still a thing I dreamed of as a kid too.
And my employment situation is still uncertain.
In 6 months I’ll be unemployed again. And maybe that’s how it’ll always be for
people like me. I don’t fit in anywhere. Or maybe things have finally turned
around and I won’t see it for another 5 years. I still feel like an outsider, a
failure in theatre. That I’ll never get a job doing anything I love. But again
maybe in five years I’ll look back and see this as the start of something. I hope
it will be. I plan it to be.
Five years is sold as the 'magic point' the
point at which you're supposed to look at people for 'what they've done
post-PhD' anything sooner is too soon. These things take time. And credit where
it's due, the best piece of advice my Evil PhD Supervisor (not to be confused
with Nice PhD Supervisor Who Left or Useless PhD Supervisor) said was 'Play the
long game'
And let me
tell you five years can feel like a Long Game.
Do I feel
like I've won? not at all. Do I feel like I might have figured out enough of
the rules to actually play the game? maybe. Am I sure what game I'm playing? is
everyone else playing the same one? probably not. Do I feel like I’m still
shouting at Angels in a play I spent four years writing about, utterly
confused, and unsure what they actually want from me? You bet. But am I like Prior
Walter in that scene nobody understands but has some lovely speeches saying ‘I’ve
no clue what’s going on but I’m still fighting’ Absolutely; I want to get to my
Epilogue.
And so what
now? Keep doing more of the same. Keep writing. Keep hustling (as the kids say)
writing some more. Finish the book. Get a new job. Who knows. The world only
spins forward after all.
Oh, and to academia? I say ‘You should sue the
bastard. That’s my only contribution to all this theology’
